Deacon Paul Nghia Pham

WHEN TRYING TO PLEASE EVERYONE DROWNS THE DONKEY

“Am I now trying to win the approval of human beings, or of God? If I were still trying to please people, I would not be a servant of Christ.” — Galatians 1:10

Along an old country road that wound through dusty fields and quiet stone cottages, an elderly man and his young grandson set out for the village market with their donkey. The animal was small, patient, and gentle — the kind that children trusted and villagers admired.

The morning sun rose warm behind them as they began their journey. The boy, light and eager, sat atop the donkey, while the old man walked beside him, leaning on a carved wooden staff. They spoke softly about the day ahead — the market stalls, the chatter of the town, and the hope of selling a few small items they had crafted during the week.

As they walked, they passed a group of villagers sitting outside a bakery. One woman scoffed loudly, “Look at that! A strong young boy riding while the elderly man walks. What kind of child has no respect?”

The others nodded. “Shameful,” someone murmured.

The old man and boy exchanged glances. The boy slid off the donkey in embarrassment.
“Grandfather,” he whispered, “I didn’t mean to cause shame.”

The old man smiled gently, helping him down.
“Then I shall ride, and you may walk.”

They continued on.

A few miles later, they passed a small group of farmers resting under a tree. One of them pointed and said, “Now there’s a sight — a grown man riding and making a little boy walk in the heat! Terrible!”

Another shook his head. “Some people have no heart.”

Again the pair looked at each other.
“Grandfather… perhaps we are doing it wrong again,” the boy said quietly.

The old man agreed.
“Then we shall both walk.”

And so, the three continued — a man, a boy, and a donkey — none riding, each step kicking up dust.

Soon they approached a crossroads where several traders were loading goods onto carts. One of them laughed loudly, “Are you fools? Why walk when you have a perfectly good donkey to ride?”

Another chimed in, “People these days! They don’t know how to use their blessings.”

The old man scratched his beard.
“Perhaps… they are right this time,” he said.

He lifted the boy onto the donkey, then climbed up behind him. The donkey, though small, trudged forward with both riders.

But not long after, a group of travelers shouted indignantly, “Cruel! Absolutely cruel! How dare you overload that poor animal?”

“Yes!” a woman cried. “Barbaric!”

The old man sighed deeply.

“Grandson,” he said, “perhaps we must find yet another way.”

“What is left to try?” the boy asked.

The old man looked at the donkey, then back at the boy, then at the villagers shaking their heads in disgust.

And so, in a desperate attempt to satisfy the endless stream of voices, they tied the donkey’s legs to a long pole. The old man lifted one end. The boy strained to lift the other. Sweat rolled down their faces as they struggled with the awkward, heavy load — the donkey kicking and braying in confusion as it swung helplessly beneath them.

People along the roadside stopped and stared. Some laughed. Some whispered. Some pointed.

But no one was pleased.

As they crossed a small wooden bridge, their arms trembling, the pole slipped. The donkey fell into the rushing stream below. A cry pierced the air — part human sorrow, part animal panic. The boy screamed, the old man lunged, but it was too late. The donkey was swept away.

The bridge grew silent.

The old man placed his hand on the boy’s shoulder.
“My child… we tried so hard to please them all. And in doing so, we lost the one thing we had.”

The boy nodded, tears streaming down his cheeks.
“Grandfather… what should we have done?”

The old man sighed.

“We should have walked the path God gave us — not the one others demanded.”

When they finally reached the village, empty-handed and hearts heavy, the old man repeated softly to his grandson a truth that would stay with him for the rest of his life:

“Listen to many, consider a few, obey only one — God.”

They sat beneath a shade tree as the old man continued:

“People will always talk.
They will praise you one moment, shame you the next.
No matter what choice you make, someone will disapprove.
But living for approval is like carrying a donkey —
it will crush you,
confuse you,
and ultimately cost you dearly.”

The boy looked at him and said,
“Grandfather… but how do we know which voice to follow?”

The old man smiled gently.
“Follow the voice that leads to peace, not fear.
Purpose, not pressure.
Love, not noise.”

Trying to please everyone will drown your joy, your purpose, and sometimes the very blessings God gave you. People’s opinions change with the wind — but God’s direction remains steady, gentle, and true.
Choose His voice above all others.